This poem is dedicated to all physcians who practice under the Great Physician and minister with Him as Lord.
M.D.
Human hands
dry, rough, skin cracked
from frequent washing.
Gentle hands in touch
Firm hands with control.
These hands know the difference
between caring and indifference
between pokes and prods
and a kind concern.
Warm hands on squirmy bellies.
Hands to caress the tears, the fears
Humble hands with finite knowledge
Hands reaching up to brush
the hand of the infinite, the Great Physician.
Hands seeking wisdom
to help, to heal
Hand lifted up in mute appeal
Hands of hope, of faith,
Human hands.
c.Darlene Moore Berg
Sometimes a Poet 
That’s beautiful!
Yes, and what a difference it makes in medical care.
You’ve caught the essence of a true physician. Well done, doc!